Monster Mash!
by Khamsin
Summary: Fred and George return to Hogwarts for Halloween, determined to make everyone forget about you-know-who and the war, just for one night. The result? Fun, fear, and even a little romance!
1. Monster Mash!

AN: The time at the top is meant to put it all into context so you can see how much of the night has passed. Hope you enjoy!

**18:00**

**All Hallow's Eve**

**Monster Mash!**

"He did the mash"

"He did the monster mash!"

"THE MONSTER MASH!"

"It was a graveyard smash"

"He did the mash!"

"Errr… It caught on in a flash!"

"He did the mash!"

"COME ON EVERYBODY!"

And half the great hall chorused; "HE DID THE MONSTER MASH!" As Fred and George Weasley boogied through the doors, wisps of smoke dancing around their feet, resplendent in fluorescent orange robes, George's face elaborately made up to resemble a troll (or Marcus Flint, the Slytherin quidditch captain of old, it was hard to tell) and Fred's a mouldering corpse (chunks of flesh kept dropping off convincingly).

Fred raised his arms to get everybody's attention (as if he hadn't already), and lightning crackled between his fingers, and thunder boomed through the cavernous room. A Hufflepuff first year screamed.

"The Halloween creep-kit! Just five galleons for a cold sweat and shiver box…"

"… and a mere seven for the hair-raising hell-raising bucket of screams"

"And ten for the blood-thirsty,"

"petrifying,"

"gruesome,"

"blood bath!"

"Which includes; a smoke snake, three ready carved pumpkins, a gravestone personalised with an individual devilish message, thunder and lightning atmospherics, murderer's mask, Monster Mash vocal chords, life-size and realistic inflatable werewolf, mountain troll or vampire (made my mum scream, that one did!), and a completely unique set of Halloween tricks, so you never get the same fright twice!"

George whispered something into Fred's ear.

"Oh yeah, and Halloween munchies", he added, with a rather wicked grin.

"We also sell our huge range of amazing murderer's masks for just eight sickles each."

"Just approach us, with your gold at the ready, at any point during the evening and we'll provide you with what you need!"

At this point they both turned expectantly to look at Dumbledore, resplendent in velvety black robes embroidered with grinning, cartoon pumpkins, who, right on cue, rose from his seat, his movement followed by every pair of eyes in the great hall.

"Happy Halloween all! I have only a few words say, which are; please bear in mind, before purchasing the fantastic wares being marketed by my two guests for the evening, Fred and George Weasley, that they will undoubtedly be banned almost immediately by our caretaker. Although, I'm sure, any rules concerning, er, _unusual_ products could be relaxed just for this evening."

"And after that you'll just have to keep them well hidden!" Put in George.

Cheers and laughter bubbled from the house tables, and someone shouted ,"Hear Hear!"

Dumbledore smiled behind his tumbling white beard, "And, if you would be so kind as to hear out a doddering old fool with a weakness for muggle sweets, just a further two words; TUCK IN!" and with that the tables were suddenly groaning with the weight of hundreds of platters of food.

As the school began to feast, Dumbledore fixed the pair of troublemakers with his twinkling gaze. "As you are no longer students, but guests of this school, you are welcome to sit at the staff table, there are a spare pair of seats next to professor Snape, if you would care to join us".

Fred shuddered, and George replied hurriedly, "Er, thanks professor, but yeah, I mean ner, no thanks I mean, I think we'll just you know, mingle", waving his arm vaguely at the students.

"Indeed", smiled Dumbledore. The twins both breathed a sigh of relief and scurried away from the teacher's table, shooting malevolent looks over their shoulder at Snape, who was looking distinctly relieved.

"It would have been quite amusing to put Weasley's-wizard-wash-your-mouth-out-wheeze in his soup though, I mean we can't get detention anymore", commented George.

"Yeah but he can't get sacked for cursing us now we're not students".

George opened his mouth to reply, but before he could the chattering crowd, each eager to get their order in first, piled up around them.

"Excellent", said Fred, rubbing his hands together with glee, "To business it is!"

At the far end of the Gryffindor table a group of 6th years were munching happily, discussing what havoc the new inventions of the most rebellious Weasleys would wreak upon Hogwarts that night.

"And Dumbledore _encouraging_ them, its going to be a _nightmare _for the prefects, isn't it Ron? _Ron_?"

"Wha? Sorry 'Ermy. Missed dat. Frenorge's 'uff looks grea' don' it?" Said Ron, pumpkin pie bulging out of his mouth.

Hermione began to chide him for his complete lack of table manners when Ginny Weasley plonked herself down beside her. Helping herself to a large pile of what appeared to be blue candy floss, she commented on how great tonight was going to be, Hermione swelling in a manner not unlike the red-head's mother, and when she began on all the things she was planning to do with the joke shop creations Harry decided it was high time he intervened, "Do you know how long Fred and George are staying?"

"Oh, they're staying the night, mmm this stuffs interesting Harry, you should try some, they told Dumbledore they'd kip in the Gryffindor common room."

"No sleep for us then", said Harry, and they both looked over at the twins, still surrounded by students. They were exchanging piles of money for small boxes about the size a pencil sharpener, which they pulled out all sorts of unusual places including the lining of their sleeves, hems of their robes, and even their hats. The colour of the cube, black, red or gold, seemed to determine how deep their current customer was delving in their pockets. Some were obviously spending the last of their Hogsmeade money, handing over tottering mounds of knuts, which George was diligently counting, whilst others, such as Draco Malfoy, handed over fifteen fat gold galleons and received their purchase with a gloating smile. Those who had completed the transaction were walking away cradling their cubes with more care than they would their first-born child. "I think I should be disturbed at just how many Slytherins are buying those", said Harry.

"Oh, I wouldn't be", replied Ginny, "They'll give them the worst".

Right on cue a large howl of pain issued from the green and silver clad table, and they saw Goyle looking furious, clutching his nose. He had apparently just erected his gravestone when a mouldering hand popped out from beneath it, grabbing his oversized conk. The mournful voice of Fred/George filled the hall, echoing the glowing, newly etched words upon the stone, "May Goyle's nose rest in peace, free from the torment it once endured, mocked by those who thought it flawed, may the poor nose rest in peace". This ditty was followed by appreciative laughter, although many were looking apprehensively at their own gravestones (Harry saw Seamus Finnigan push his in front of Dean, who pushed it back, who pushed it back again, until an engraving stating, "Stop pooing your pants, I'm not going to do anything", appeared upon it).

Soon after this Fred pushed his way through the remaining throng, and made his way to where the group were sitting. "Phew", he said plonking himself down, "You must be as starved for trouble as I am for food if everyone's that desperate for tricks, good job I've got some great ideas for more havoc, we're gonna have a busy night!" He shovelled potatoes onto his plate, took a hearty gulp of pumpkin juice, and then pulled a pile of what appeared to be blank, oval shaped pieces of plastic from the front of his trousers. Hermione broke off trying to explain about the monster mash to Ron (who, having no muggle connections, had never heard it before), and shot him a disgusted look.

"Don't worry Hermione dear, they were outside my boxers", Fred said, noticing.

"Why didn't you just bring a bag?"

"We had to sneak them out the house without mum seeing, she'd have done her nut if she knew we were planning to sell this stuff at Hogwarts."

"What _are_ they?"

"Truth-revealing masks, they turn into your perfect Halloween character. Bargain, only fifteen sickles, and they're better quality than the murderer's masks."

"Fifteen sickles! You've gotta be joking!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

"I'll buy us all one", Harry offered generously. He handed over three galleons and nine sickles, Ron looking slightly green with envy, and Fred gave them each a mask. Ginny quickly tied the ribbon behind her head, and the plastic metamorphosed into a dragon ("always knew you were somewhat fiery!" joked Fred), and Ron fumbled with his for a few moments before Hermione did it up for him. It turned into a drooling boar's head. "Charming!" Ron complained, looking at his reflection in his spotless plate. When Hermione put on hers, looking slightly unsure, it became a cat. "Very nice", Fred complemented, "makes your eyes look huge". Harry knotted his and watched his reflection in Ron's dish.

The happy feeling around the table evaporated with the rapidity of a dementor attack. Everyone froze, and Neville Longbottom screamed in pure terror. Before anyone else could see Harry ripped it off and threw it across the table, where it instantly returned to plastic. They all watched him for a moment, dumbstruck, then Fred said, shakily, "look mate, don't worry about it, it probably just sensed your connection and used that or something, I mean its not intelligent or anything, really dumb in fact".

"Voldemort, Harry breathed, _Voldemort_".

The silence persisted for another few seconds, Harry feeling sure he could detect Dumbledore's eyes upon him, then Fred pulled out another wad of masks, from the back of his trousers this time, and the tension began to ebb away slightly, as they saw what they were. Harry laughed with the others at the cunning depictions of all the teachers, but his insides were still squirming, "_Am I really evil? Or maybe it means Voldemort will defeat me. It probably does, because I don't see how I could ever kill him, I'm not powerful enough"_, he thought miserably. The others soon forgot the incident (although Hermione kept shooting him concerned glances), as orders and silver were passed up the table: "Give us a McGonagall, Fred!" "I want a Dumbledore!" "Pass us a Hagrid, would'ya?" A Snape was quickly forced upon Neville, and the whole table howled at the exaggeratedly greasy skin and hooked nose. The real Snape up at the staff table was looking daggers at them, and Harry was sure the potions lesson on Monday morning would be torturous for Neville, who had carried it on purely as a passport to auror training.

Harry watched as Proffessor McGonagall leant over the staff table and tapped George on the shoulder, he looked mildly surprised as she handed over a handful of silver in exchange for one of his own stock of masks. As she lowered her arms from pulling it over her head he saw the hugely magnified eyes and trembling features of Trewlawny. Soon Flitwick was in peals of laughter, as she was evidently performing a cruelly accurate impression.

Dinner continued to a background of bangs and screams as more and more boxes were opened, the laughter got louder and the hall more and more crowded as it filled with inflatable trolls, werewolves and vampires, all with convincing sound effects, and Harry felt his fears begin to evaporate, it was just a stupid mask after all. They were finally forgotten completely when pudding arrived, accompanied by a marquee sized ghost with glowing red eyes and an evil howl. It swept low over the tables several times, leaving behind screams and students with covered in food from where they'd thrown themselves flat onto their tables to avoid the apparition, before disappearing through a wall leaving a faint smell like old socks behind.

Soon they were all contentedly full, and beginning to think of a comfortable bed (even though it was unlikely the twins would let them have any sleep at all). Harry was gazing sleepily at the pumpkins glittering above the table, when a blindingly bright light suddenly exploded silently from Seamus' golden cube enveloping the entire Gryffindor table, and just as abruptly shrank back into non-existence. Everything became deathly quiet, as if the hall itself was holding its breath (excepting the inflatable monsters), as everyone looked around anxiously. Harry focused on Fred and George. As the culprits they'd know what to expect. What he saw was not reassuring: They grinned evilly at one another, and as one person pushed their chairs back from the table. Harry nervously followed suit, and across from him Hermione did the same, looking petrified. Harry followed the twins' avid gaze upward, but could see nothing out the ordinary. Suddenly his heart gave a painful lurch and he threw himself still further back from the table, his arms over his face, as the spell keeping the pumpkins air-bound ceased to exist, and they plummeted downward. He expected to be painfully splattered with pumpkin entrails, but when nothing happened, he cautiously peeped over his arms. They hadn't splattered for a very simple reason; the pumpkins had landed on their _feet_. Each and every one had sprouted identical, black, stick like bodies(rather like a bowtruckle), the pumpkin perched on top as a gruesome head. Everybody stared for an infinite second, then chaos ensued. The creature closest to Harry launched itself at him claw like fingers extended. He whacked at the head and sent it rolling across the table, where it leapt agilely to its feet and hurled a golden dish filled with custard into Hermione's face. Harry grabbed it and threw it away from her, its sharp claws leaving gouges in his wrist. Pulling his wand from his robes he blasted away the three dragging Neville along the tabletop, sending the plates crashing to the ground. The room was filled with flying pumpkin-things, food, people and the hiss of punctured monsters. At the Slytherin table a boy smashed one, sending the candle rolling, setting fire to his neighbour. A panicked pansy Parkinson threw a jug of pumpkin juice at him, but missed, drenching a livid Daphne Greengrass.

A mass exodus was beginning as people grabbed what remained of their belongings and fled. Fred, laughing hysterically, grabbed the still blinded Hermione and pulled her from the hall, followed feverishly by the other Weasley's and Harry. At the doors people struggled to squeeze through, and Malfoy tried to shove past Harry, only to be struck painfully on the forehead by a flying goblet and be knocked to the floor. Finally out and halfway up the stairs Harry looked back to see Dumbledore slamming the hall door closed, laughing fit to burst.

"Was", gasped George, "that not the most incredible thing you have seen in your life?"

Seamus Finnigan stumbled past, eyes wide and singed eyebrows sizzling, muttering, "always knew they were evil, with their jeering mouths, and eyes that look at you, I knew it, I knew it!"

"We got the idea from what Ron told us about the class when Lockhart set pixies loose", chimed in Fred.

Harry squirted water from the tip of his wand onto Ginny's hat, which was smoking.

"Well the best is still to come!" Said George, happily.


	2. Cheers!

AN: to make any author's day, press the review button right away! ;)

* * *

Cheers!

"Happy Halloween!" Chorused the Gryffindors, drawing their butterbeers together in a clinking toast.

"Welcome back to Frorge",

_Chink._

"Cheers! And to the fabulous three!"

"Hey!"

"And Ginny."

_Clack._

"To Hogwarts!"

_Tinkle._

"Honeydukes!"

_Ting._

"Wealth and riches!"

_Slosh._

"Careful Ron!"

"Hermione's bossiness, and sexy legs!"

"OY!"

"Calm down Ron, I didn't mean Hermione's legs in particular, just sexy legs in general. _(Not that I don't think they're sexy!)"_

"_Hmmph."_

"Death to Snape!"

_Ring!_

"Death to Malfoy!"

_Clonk._

"Death to all of Slytherin!"

_Hear Hear!_

Pause.

_("Come on Hermione!")_

"Err... Death to blast ended skrewts! And Rita Skeeter!"

_Clank._

"Death to Voldemort!"

_SMASH!_

They had toasted rather too enthusiastically, shattering several bottles, and what with everyone in earshot dropping their own drinks at the name 'Voldemort!' the carpet was suddenly somewhat damp. And sticky.

"Oh yuck! Now look what you've done Harry, Scougify!"

"Me?! Why's it my fault? I think we should blame it on Fred and George, out of principle, I mean any chaos is usually their doing."

Hermione, obviously taking his words to heart, flung herself at Fred, knocking him off the squishy chair he was sharing with Ginny and landing on top of him, dangerously close to the crackling fire. Fred gave an unmistakable purr. Ron growled. Hermione began tickling mercilessly. Soon Fred was rolling round the floor in anguished hysterics, begging her to stop, but pleading was useless. Even when his red mop became red flames (courtesy of the blaze in the fireplace) she merely extinguished them with her wand and carried on tickling.

"George... h...h...help", He managed to choke out. George didn't exactly come rushing to his aid, but the phrase did assist him in another way; it reminded Hermione of his twin's existence. She abandoned Fred and slowly advanced upon George, fingers extended and twitching menacingly. He backed away quickly but she stalked after him as he stumbled over numerous books and bags in his haste to escape. She soon backed him into a corner, her fingers were an inch from his stomach, he sucked it in as far as he could ...

"Quick! Come quick! Someone's released a flock of flamingos in the entrance hall, and tied up a couple of Slytherins in a barrel of shrimps!" The flushed fourth year hurtled into the common room, grabbed a camera, and as promptly flew back through the portrait hall. Everyone was silent for a moment, then as one body rushed for the exit.

* * *

"I wonder if it was Hannah Abbott", panted Harry five staircases and nine corridors later, "she always has had a way with flamingos, but I never placed her as much of a troublemaker."

"You'd be surprised", wheezed Fred darkly, clutching his side.

Harry opened his mouth to ask how on earth he knew that, but George gasped, "shortcut, this way", pulling him through what appeared to be a solid wall, and the sudden disappearance of solid ground from beneath his feet seemed rather more important.

* * *

Hermione rounded the corner, face pulsing with heat, feeling as if she was about to collapse, "wait... for... me", she implored pitifully down the empty passage. She began to stumble along it when a cool hand came down on her arm and another closed over her mouth.


	3. Chuteing Flamingos

**Draco-Luver -** Thanks for the review – as you can see, there is more!

**Goblinfool** – I will try and update as often as poss ;-)

**Padma** - Ah, but you did v well in it! As for the hand, stop reading this and carry on with the story! Now, I command you! Oh, and why are you Padma? Don't you want to be Parvati so you can be with the sexy Dan Radcliffe (wink, wink) at the ball? Oh, and say thanks to mmm...Mr Darcy for me! Hey! Why did you just read that? I told you to skip ahead! You bad girl, tut tut. Skip ahead, skip ahead! Jesus.

**Dark fairy fan –** Thank you! I'll keep updating as long as you do ;)

**Tikvah Ariel-** Thank you! And some good guesses there! But that's all I'm saying! Glad I poof red it vell ;)

**Irulan Corelli –** Mucho thanks! (jumps up and down on bed with glee!)

**

* * *

**

**Chute-ing Flamingos**

"Aarrgh!" Screamed Harry.

"Woooo!" "Wahee!" Shouted the twins.

* * *

"Help!" Hermione tried to cry, but the ice-cold palm clamped against her lips muffled her plea.

* * *

Harry was certain he was going to die. There was no way anyone could survive such a fall. He was in a perfectly circular chute, the sides composed of what appeared to be copper, stained nastily with a multitude of unidentifiable substances. It stank of dirt, sewage, and a whole cocktail of scents it was better not to think about. The air tasted fetid and metallic. An additional surge of fear rose in his throat as he thought of the labyrinth of pipes weaving through the chamber of secrets. _Voldemort won't even have to Avada Kedavra me..._

The air rushed past him, like angels pushing him firmly on toward heaven, then suddenly, miraculously, the pipe was levelling...hewas horizontal... _thank God._

_Or maybe not_.

He was flying through space once again...

"Oof!" His journey was cut short rather swiftly. And painfully. He was waist deep in an Olympic swimming-pool-sized dustbin. Great.

Harry wiped potato peel of his glasses and looked up to see the twins clambering onto a narrow wooden walkway spanning the vast cavern. He quickly followed suit, desperate to free himself of the cloying rubbish and chased after them, only dimly recalling the purpose of this mad escapade.

"What was _that_?!" He hissed at George who was wrestling with a small door.

"Rubbish chute of course." He replied, kicking the door viciously when it failed to yield to alohomora, forcing it open and ducking through. "House-elves use them. You didn't think they lugged everyone's litter all through the castle, did you?"

"Never really thought about it," responded Harry. "How come they aren't on the marauder's map?"

"Too many of them. We reckon you could get anywhere in the school if you could get up them."

"From what we've gathered", joined in Fred as they hurried up a large flight of steps, "rubbish keeps building up until every few years a teacher remembers its there and vanishes it."

"Its always exciting, hoping just that hasn't happened..."

"... And that you'll have a nice big pile of crap to cushion your fall."

They burst through another doorway into the kitchens, the pots and pans glittering in the bright light, through the fruit bowl portrait and up to the entrance hall.

* * *

Several floors up Hermione was lying frozen upon the cold stone floor. Her brown eyes roamed, terrified, over her captives. Drace Malfoy stood above her, lazily twirling her wand in his long fingers as he surveyed her, flanked by three other Slytherins. "So what do we do with her now?" Grunted Goyle. An evil smirk spread languidly across Malfoy's icy countenance. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He smiled, eyes fixed upon Hermione.

* * *

The twins and Harry skidded to a halt at the end of the passage, staring at the scene in front of them. Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were each tied to a stake firmly impaled in a giant barrel filled to the brim with glistening shrimps, their gentle rose bodies sparkling in the torchlight. Pansy was screaming as they squirmed against her, and Nott was tinged with a delicate green, but the crowning glory of the bizarre set-up was the flamingos. There must have been fifty of them, all jostling, honking and flapping in their desperation to reach the shrimps. Pansy shrieked still louder as one extended his handsome beak toward her, and quickly snapped one of the writhing creatures from her hair. 

The crowd were crying with mirth, Colin Creevy in an elevated state of rapture, clicking away so fast his finger was a blur, capturing the moment from every possible angle, ensuring no Hogwarts student (or teacher) would miss out.

When one of the birds ungainly scrambled onto Blaise's head, claws scratching his shoulders and wriggling its bum firmly against his scalp in order to get comfortable, George collapsed in hysterics, crying against the floor. And when the furious Slytherin's unusual headgear swiftly dilated its perfectly round anus, releasing a foul-smelling stream of liquid downBlaise's cheek, Harry and George swiftly joined him.

* * *

AN- WAVES ARMS ABOVE HEAD JUMPING UP AND DOWN. OK now I've got your attention (hopefully), please hit that little review button, pretty please with sugar on top :-) Merci bucket! (Oh I love that bit where Hagrid says "Bong-sewer" in GoF, tee hee). 

P.S. Sos it's so short! I PROMISE I'll update tomorrow.

P.P.S. When Harry and the Weasley twins come flying out the tube I just have this picture from The Goonies going through my head (fantastic film).

P.P.P.S. Its hard for me to update both this and The End regularly so which would you prefer to see with the most updates (although I will try and keep up with both)?


	4. Of Mudbloods and Death Eaters

Disclaimer: oops, forgot last time! I'm not doing this for money, only my sick pleasure, its all JKs except this particular exploitation of the plot, which I'd rather like to call my own, blah-de-blah.

* * *

**Of Mudbloods and Death Eaters**

**22:15 ****All Hallow's Eve**

"Yeah". Snorted one of the hulking figures above Hermione.

"Yes _what_ Gregory", snarled Malfoy.

"Yeah, I would like to know what we're gonna do with 'er", he replied, his perpetually confused look even more pronounced than usual, as his huge eyebrows knitted together.

"I was talking to Granger, you oaf." Malfoy glared at his cronies as if daring them to say anything else. When Goyle shuffled his feet and looked at the floor he returned his attention to the petrified Hermione, incanting "Mobilicorpus!" Then hissing, "Keep a look out", as he began down the passage, Hermione gliding behind like a macabre puppy dog.

Hermione forced herself not to whimper as her hands scraped painfully over the ground. She was so _stupid_, she should have conquered her fear of heights and taken up flying like Ron, Harry, Ginny and all the others kept telling her to. If she had she'd be a lot fitter, and she wouldn't have got left behind, and wouldn't be here now. _What would they do to her?_ Everyone knew they were all Death Eaters, and to them she was less than human, a crawling, lowly beast, not worthy even to be a slave. A pearly tear ran down her cheek as she watched Malfoy's robes billowing ahead of her, and saw the way the torchlight sparkled upon his white-gold locks. She felt a drop of blood trace a path down her finger, her knuckles were raw now, it felt as if she had been pulled along for miles, her neck ached as her head lolled uncontrollably, bouncing as they descended stairway after stairway.

Finally they stopped. Judging by the damp, moss covered ceiling that was all she could see, they had brought her to the dungeons. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy flick his wand up and she fell hard to the floor, her skull smacking onto the stone. She fought to remain conscious, eyesight swimming as she examined the group in front of her.

"Right Millicent, you do it. I don't want to touch her filthy mudblood flesh."

_Do what? Do what?_ Hermione panicked trying to focus upon the brutish girl advancing upon her.

Bulstrode crouched down next to her and ran her hand down Hermione's cheek. "Don't worry, be a good little bitch and do what Mummy says and I won't hurt you. Much." She looked at Malfoy and said, "you're going to have to take the spell off her, I can't do this with her all rigid".

Malfoy indicated his wand in Hermione's direction, and she instantly scrambled to her feet and hurled herself at him, but Millicent threw her roughly back against the damp wall. "Bad girl", Malfoy drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into his trademark smirk. "Do that again", he said smoothly, levelling his wand at Hermione's heart, "and I _will_ imperio you."

Hermione sank sobbing to the floor of the dark dungeon room, head in her hands. Bulstrode advanced upon her again. When her hands brushed against her tie, Hermione weakly tried to push her hands away, but she brutally slammed her head against the wall and continued to loosen the fabric. When the knot was undone she ripped it burning from the Gryffindor's neck and chucked it behind her. Crabbe caught it and sniffed it loudly, chortling brutishly. When Bulstrode slipped Hermione's robes from her shoulder's she began to whimper, "No, p-please n-n-no", When the buttons of her shirt were unhurriedly undone, one by one, she tried to scream, but her voice caught, useless, in her throat.

"Silenco!" Malfoy shot at her. "Just in case", he added wolfishly, his eyebrows flicking suggestively skywards.

All Hermione could do was scream silently as her shirt was slid, slowly, oh so slowly, off her, Bulstrode's rough fingers grazing her stomach.

"Look Millicent, I know you're enjoying this, but get a move on or we'll be caught", Malfoy commanded.

Obligingly she hastily pulled of Hermione's shoes and socks, and then violently ripped away her skirt, eyes flashing. Here she hesitated. Hermione looked horrified at her captives, who were all staring hungrily at her. She prayed that it was over, but it wasn't. It was far from over. Gently the vile Slytherin girl lifted her hands behind Hermione's back and undid her bra, pulling it off. Then she removed her knickers. Hermione had never felt so naked in her life, she tried desperately to cover herself as the cotton slid over her skin, but her futile efforts seemed only to further incite the evil excuses for human beings in front of her.

"Evanesco", whispered Malfoy, vanishing the pathetic pile of clothes lying crumpled upon the ground. He pulled a vial of pale blue liquid from his robes, and raised it to eyelevel. He swirled it, studying it intently. "You know what this is, Granger? It's a love potion. The first person you see after you've taken it will be the one you go head over heels for, understand? So as I'm about to force this down your throat, you'd better close your eyes, unless you want it to be one of us." He crossed the room in a flash and grabbed Hermione's chin, forcing her head back. She struggled furiously and he pinched her nose. She tried desperately to keep her lips firmly together but soon she had to gasp for air and he threw the potion down her throat as she screwed her eyes shut, choking and spluttering.

"Done."

Hermione felt someone grab her hair and she was pulled roughly to her feet. She heard Malfoy lift the silencing spell and she said coolly, calmly, "Death Eater bast-", a hand gave her a savage backhand crack and she forced herself to keep her eyes tightly shut. "Didn't think you wanted to finish that, _Hermione_", came Bulstrode's voice, so close to her lips that her breath tickled her skin, "Ciao, _my love_", she hissed, and Hermione gasped as a pair of fingers viciously pinched her right nipple so hard she knew it would be black come tomorrow. She stifled fresh tears as she felt the rush of robes moving past her, and heard soft footsteps leaving the room. The door slammed.

Hermione cautiously began to open her eyes. "_Keep them shut_", came Malfoy's voice swiftly, "I'm still here". She felt him advance toward her and stumbled backwards into the slimy masonry of the dungeon wall, heart racing. She didn't know how close he was…

"Right here Granger."

She gasped as his hand tangled itself in her hair and yanked her head sideways. He was close, so close, yet not touching her; there must have been a millimetre of air between their bodies. The cold, hard wood of his wand, so like its owner, lightly caressed the tender skin just below her right ear. He dragged the point slowly down her jugular, then jabbed it hard into her pulse point. "I can feel your life against my wand tip". His voice came as a tempest of air against her ear. "Beating as fast as a butterfly's wing; so delicate, so fragile, so innocent. Part of my soul wants to take it and feel it flap helplessly against me, to crush it, control it, _kill_ it. But I won't. This is all just because you're a Gryffindor butterfly, and I'm a Slytherin serpent, UNDERSTAND ME? Snakes devour butterflies. Slytherins and Gryffindors _don't mix_; they despise one another! That's why I'm doing this. _I hate Gryffindors!_" He pushed his wand into her throat so hard she choked. "_I AM NOT A DEATH EATER!_"

And he was gone. In a rush of air Draco had silently exited the room. Hermione heard the bolt slide home like a Basilisk across a dusty floor.

She slid to the floor, tears pouring down her cheeks, hands clasped around her neck. Not a Death Eater? _It wasn't possible_, just look at his father! But it wasn't fair to judge him by his parents, Hagrid was half giant and as docile as a teddy bear. _"But who other than a Death Eater would do this to me?"_ She thought desperately, "_I must just keep my eyes closed, Ron and Harry will find me eventually. They have the map. Then I can explain to them, and they can find an antidote_." But something else was happening to her, her vision was clouding and her eyelids growing heavy. "_Malfoy! Oh God, he must have spiked the potion with sleeping draught. I MUST remember to keep my eyes shut when I wake up, I must, I must, I-I-I MUST, I mu-mu-must…_"

And Hermione Granger collapsed upon the dungeon floor.

* * *

AN. 

This fic was originally going to be a Halloween one-shot, but then I developed a plot that just led us through a few pranks, then I got loads of ideas so now I've got a really detailed story-line planned out and its going to be a full-length fic!

I've started putting the time when each chapter is meant to start at the beginning of each one, just to put it all into context. It's gonna be one long, action packed night!

BTW, this was done and ready to be posted on Sunday, but I couldn't log in coz of Fanfic updating their system. So I didn't break my promise!

Please review! Love Khamsin.


	5. Suicide Jumps

**Suicide Jumps**

**22:20 All Hallow's Eve**

"Shoo! Shoo!"

Professor McGonagall ran full tilt into the entrance hall, face redder than a Weasley's hair.

"Shoo!" She panted again, clutching a stitch in her side.

Not one bird so much as flinched.

"SHOO!" She screeched, brandishing her wand, which emitted a bang of cannon-like proportion.

En masse the flamingos flew into the air (along with several of the more jumpy onlookers) accompanied by a cacophony of indignant squawks. McGonagall was completely enveloped in them. When they passed, heading for the wider school expanses, everyone present, from first year to seventh, Slytherin to Gryffindor, prankster to boffin, froze. Covered in shrimps and bird droppings, hair escaping from its usually army-neat bun, face hot enough to fry an egg on, she was a truly terrifying sight. Several of the closest students took an involuntary step back in the face of her blatant fury, and the whole crowd jumped a foot as she let out a bloodcurdling scream, no, it wasn't a scream, it could only be described as a battle cry:

"**AIYEE-OO-YAAAAAAH**!"

She flourished her wand like an impassioned knight defending Queen and country; "Reducto!" "Evanesco!" But the minor explosions emitted from her aura of blazing anger seemed to be doing nothing to decrease the numbers of the flock; it fact its size seemed to be… _growing_?

Soon it was obvious that whenever one of the insolently pink creatures detonated in a puff of bright feathers another ten swiftly took its place.

The sound of McGonagall grinding her teeth was audible even over the clatter of hundreds of wings. Suddenly, with the speed of a Tasmanian devil, she span to face the Weasleys and Harry.

"YOU!" She shrieked extending a quivering, dung-coated finger toward the trio. "You… flamingos… more…fireworks… expel… no, no, can't…gone… KILL!"

And she ran toward them, mouth open in a constant screech, arms extended zombie-fashion, flattening everyone in her path, looking for all the world like a demented steam roller wrapped in tartan.

Harry, Fred and George stood paralysed; mouths open in identical looks of horror. Something clicked in Harry's mind, "She thinks you did it because of the multiplying fireworks you set off last year, and now she's going to kill you, and me. Shit, RUN!"

And not thinking, quidditch reflexes taking over, he sprinted away as fast as his legs would carry him, Fred and George close on his heels. He dived as a beam of golden light narrowly missed his left side, picked himself up and carried on running. He picked out Ron and Ginny standing, jaws hanging at about knee-height, ahead of him. As he hurtled past he grabbed Ron's arm and the front of Ginny's robes and yanked them forward. There was a loud rip and a curse, then they were being borne along with him.

"YOU …TOO?… DIE!" more golden light, "NEVER… AGAIN… FINISHED… AZKABAN… MURDER!"

"Harry, you wanker!" Yelled Ginny, now pounding up the stairs on his left side, "She thought we were innocent!"

The object of Ginny's endearments chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. She was gaining. During his brief glance he noticed Fred's eyes contract, cat like, focusing on something in front and to the right of Harry. He looked quickly in that direction, but could see nothing of interest except the portraits, either looking on in horror, or, for some reason alien to Harry, laughing fit to burst. His heart was pounding and his mind was blank as to where to go next, the wild scream behind him was getting closer…

"Right! BEAR RIGHT!" shouted Fred, and Harry swung himself around the doorframe, stomach soaring. Fred had overtaken him now, puffing and blowing. He leapt up a staircase and Harry made to follow suit…

It was changing, swinging away, there was no time to stop so he jumped, heart in his mouth, he landed painfully on his knees, and was struggling to stand when George sailed right over him and carried on upwards. Harry looked behind to see Ron, screaming, hurl himself across the void and land teetering on the edge, arms wind milling furiously and he grabbed him and pulled him in. Then he froze in horror. The gap was now at least four metres wide, the drop (he gulped) must have been thirty down to the stone floor far, far below. And Ginny was still coming on strong, blazing hair flying behind her like a bonfire in a hurricane.

"Ginny, stop! There's no way you can make it!" He shouted desperately.

"I bloody well can!" She screamed back as she reached the edge, and leapt…

Time seemed to stop. There was no way on earth she would make it, Harry stretched out his arms and…

"OOF!"

"Get out the way, Harry!" Ginny had barrelled into him, sprung catlike to her feet and carried on. He blinked, and stood there gawping stupidly for a moment. Ginny turned round, groaned, ran back down the stairs, grabbed him and heaved her on behind him. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he was dragged away, feet on autopilot. For one wild, exhilarating moment he thought they'd lost her, but then he saw the tabby cat leaping gracefully toward the ever moving staircase; McGonagall had obviously transformed into her animagus form to make the jump. He groaned and began running at full speed again. Right, left, right.

They were in a dead end, grey walls leading to a bare expanse of stone, ornamented only by one small portrait.

"Fred you fool!"

But Fred was still sprinting full tilt toward the wall. And he dived. Sailing through the air, arms extended like a high diver. "Snot!" He yelled as he twisted in midair… he was going to crash right into the portrait of the suggestively gyrating belly dancer …

Fred flew right threw the portrait as if it were smoke and disappeared from view.

Harry gasped and began analysing the set-up more closely. The beckoning dancer suddenly held new meaning. He gulped as he took in the dynamics; the portrait was about a metre and a half up and only the size of one of Hermione's larger books. He wasn't even sure if his shoulders were thin enough to get through, but Fred was wider than him. Still, no way. Although Ginny managed that suicidal jump to the stairs…

"NO WAY!" yelled Ron, agreeing with Harry's thoughts.

"YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" Shouted back George, who was just behind him. "JUST YELL SNOT AND THINK POSITIVE!"

"No way." Ron repeated slowing down.

**AIYEE-OO-YAAAAAAH!**

"MCGONAGALL! DO IT RON!"

With a bloodcurdling howl Ron threw himself at the portrait, "Snot!"

"Snot!" Echoed George as he followed suit, performing an elegant dolphin like leap, "COME ON GI-"

Harry heard Ginny gulp. He couldn't see her face as she was ahead of him, but he imagined it was as white as snow. The portrait was now pointing between her legs as she twirled and span.

"I can't do it…"

"Yes you can Gin!"

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT- SNOT!" The youngest Weasley howled as she threw herself as high as she could… she was through. Now only Harry was left.

"_I can do it, I can do It"_, he repeated mantra like in his head as he sprinted full speed toward the far wall.

He leapt.

"_There's no way in hell I'm getting through that."_

"Snot!"

His head and shoulders were through, but his already bruised knees banged agonizingly against the frame and was he pitched forward…

* * *

Draco Malfoy swept through the cold dungeon passages, relishing the feel of the chill air as it caressed his hot face, "_That mudblood deserves to suffer, this is not enough, I should have let Millicent have her way with her, that would teach her_", he thought furiously, taking deep breaths to calm himself. In his rage he kicked out savagely at the wall, "_How DARE she judge me_?" 

His fury was an unhealthy distraction, and he forced himself back under control. He smoothed his robes and knocked on the heavy oak door he had come to a stop in front of. When it grudgingly opened he forced his features into a concerned expression, and began to speak in his in his silkiest drawl; "Professor…"

* * *

AN: The more reviews the faster the update! 


End file.
